From Another Universe
by mjhsucks
Summary: Just a little project I'm working on. An alien has mysteriously appeared on Earth and John plans to take it captive to learn more about it. i mean, it's an alien, how cool is that? Soon he realizes it isn't just an alien, and it's surprisingly more human than he that aliens could ever be. Eventual JohnKat is the key here, so if you don't like, don't read C: Gonna rate T to be safe.


EB: so let me get this straight.

EB: out of all the planets and stars and meteors, you don't think that there is, by any circumstances, other alien life?

TG: no you get this straight

TG: do you seriously think there is another cool kid with rockin shades and extremely good looks that is just sitting in his legit-as-fuck room tossing ill beats across the table like a match of ping-pong to the death in this universe

TG: no i think not

EB: well i'm not saying cool kids! what if it's just like a bunch of grubs or something? it'd probably be a lot more possible to find.

TG: ok thats just stupid

TG: who would even be interested in that

EB: or maybe there's an alien on our planet RIGHT NOW recording this conversation?

EB: they'd kill you first, dave.

EB: they always kill non-believers.

TG: you know there's this thing called outside

TG: do you ever participate in it

TG: like do you have any friends to whom you could spill this AMAZINGLY cool shit to

TG: im afraid i cant handle it

EB: shut up and hear me out.

EB: how big is the universe?

TG: what kind of a shit question is that

EB: it's bigger than everything and anything you could possibly imagine.

EB: it's bigger than occupy wall street,

EB: it's bigger than sarah liston's nose,

EB: dude, it is bigger than your ego.

EG: that is how giant-big we are talking about here.

TG: fuck

TG: i guess thats pretty big

TG: should i be shitting my pants in terror or

TG: whats your point

EB: and in this giant universe, you don't believe there could be any other living organism? not one?

TG: whered you get in on all this spacey shit

TG: youre creeping me out

EB: jade told me, and you're avoiding the question.

TG: look man when ET comes knocking on my door asking for my cell to phone home then ill believe in aliens

TG: i need proof man

TG: i need some guy dressed in a fancy black suit

TG: probably from the fbi or whatever

TG: and he needs to hand me a piece of paper that certifies there are indeed fucking other worldly monsters on earth

TG: and i want that guy to look into my eyes and whisper

TG: you are fucked dave

TG: you should have listened to your lameo friend john

TG: we are screwed

TG: now back your bags were going to mars to start a new civilization

TG: i heard they have frozen water up in mars or whatever the fuck

TG: rumors man

EB: ugggggh you're not making sense.

EB: long story short, you have, once again, missed the entire point.

EB: how did we even get to talking about this?

TG: well obviously it was me and my obsession for sci-fi movies.

TG: as if nic cage wasnt weird enough

EB: shut up! that phase never happened and you know it.

TG: whatever man

EB: ugh, look, i have to go anyway and run some errands before my dad gets home.

TG: do you want me to link you some scrambled alien porn or something

EB: don't you fucking dare.

EB: link me an alien fan fic and i will personally send a virus to mess up your computer.

TG: sweet man thanks for the idea

EB: screw you. you suck. goodbye.

TG: love you too

- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 17:00 -

Your name is John Egbert and you close your laptop shut. You really didn't mean to geek out like that while talking to Dave, considering all the shit he gives you for it. It's not that he's a jerk or anything (well he is), he just got tired of hearing you babble non-stop over it. You lay the kind-of-new laptop by your side and sluggishly turn and stand up away from your bed. But every once in a while it slips, and then you have a friend on the other side of the computer pinching their nose in annoyance. You stretch out your arms for a minute. You can't even describe your relief that school is now officially out for the summer. You then, like any sensible person, tried to sleep off the few hours you had before you had to get up and walk over to the store. Then that was short-lived when Dave started to bug you because school for him ended like, two weeks ago. Lucky bastard. You check if your green shirt is too wrinkled and comb your hair with your fingers. You take your phone out of your black shorts and turn it off. Just in case a certain someone tried to send you inappropriate things in public. Plus, you really just wanted some time to think now that the whole school-drama is over. You walk over to your door and stamp your feet into your black and white sneakers. Images of one of your best friends, Jade Harley, flash your mind. Jeez, you two are really close. It's like one of those kinds of friends where everyone asks if you two are dating. Of course not, because she lives halfway across the planet, and you like to consider her as a sister. You can't really remember when you two met, because it was so long ago. She was just a little girl, with long, black hair that nearly hit her knees.

You open up your bedroom door to once again, greet all of your jester and clown paintings and harlequins. You can't help but let your face turn into a sneer of disgust as you try to avoid eye contact with these regretful childhood memories. Next time, you should really shove it in your dad's face that you love aliens, so maybe he'll take all of this shit down. Though, on the other hand, that could backfire horribly. Aliens usually aren't very attractive. You walk down the hall and turn to go down the stairs. Hair that reaches down to your knees is pretty long. What if when you see her again, she has really short hair? You wonder for a minute if she remembers how you look. Though you admit you looked kind of stupid, as the picture on the wall reminds you as you trot down the stairs. You had just gotten your glasses and they were big on you. A lot of your front baby teeth were missing, making you look like you just got back from a boxing match whenever you grinned. You make your way down the stairs and a small table to your right has some money and the house keys. You grab for these unconsciously and shove them in your pocket. Ever since you dad got that huge promotion when you were 13, you've taken care most of the groceries. Only now you remember distinctly asking for just shaving cream. Dads and their shaving cream; it must be a blast or something.

As you walk out of the house and pull out the house keys to lock the house, you glance at your Nanna's painting over the ever blazing fireplace. Under it is a fancy-looking vase with her burned ashes. You know you should feel some sense of remorse, but to be honest, you never knew her. You know your dad takes her loss as a large one, as he's always looking at her deceased face for a little more than a few seconds. When you were younger, you tried numerous times to ask your father what happened to her. But whenever you did, he just kind of shut off and made you a cake; not that cake's bad or anything, but even sweets can get really old really fast. You step outside, locking the door behind you. Summer days make it so that the sun is still up in the sky and still beating down on everything, even in the evening. You can only imagine how it is for Dave, who lives somewhere around Houston. You forget.

Houses upon houses of white are lined up perfectly with each other. Evenly spaced and trimmed, green lawns are really the only contrast to all the houses. It's so dull and boring to look at. Though you're beyond used to it, and you walk over to the store. Usually anyone new here would get lost within a couple of blocks, but the directions are burned into your physical memory. Something that always seemed to mildly creepy you out is the fact that no one within a mile radius of you was your age. Thus, walking through here is like walking through a ghost town. Some would call it peaceful, others would call it lonely. You stare at the blindingly white sidewalk as you walk while you think. It's not like you don't have friends, it's just that you can't waltz over to someone's house for a few hours of video gaming or something like that. Also, none of them really shared your weird interest in foreign creatures. They were more like the friends you could just joke about stuff with, not really the type in which you could sit around talking about random things for hours. Your internet friends, however, were different. Yes, Dave obviously didn't share your liking in green monsters, and neither did your other friend, Rose. But they were both really cool to talk to. Rose was a little more sophisticated and sarcastic, and granted, sometimes a little creepy. You two met through Dave, and you can't even remember exactly how you met him. Something about telling him his comics were lame and thus getting you knee deep into the glorious internet aspect of irony. Rose was more serious, more collected. Though she always seemed to be in a good mood whenever she talked to you or any other of her friends. You're not really sure how you can sense that; but hey, it's better than being a clueless friend. She always seems to be reading these dark books that are supposed to be scary but "highly intriguing" at the same time. You think they're kind of stupid, though you wouldn't say that to her face. She also knits, thanks to you, and you're impressed on how much she had improved in two years. You really wish you could meet her and Dave, and maybe one day, you can. You just hope it will be like everything you imagine it would be. They'd all be there with you and Jade, and you four would have the best. Time. Ever. No exceptions.

As you walk along, you start to hear voices. It isn't gradual; it's more like suddenly they're there. You look up to see you're entering down town, which really isn't much to look at. It's got some cool stores and bakeries, and way too many cars. No one pays attention to you as you walk by except a few of your acquaintances' parents who wave and smile. Half of them get your name wrong, anyway. Not that it ever bothered you. Adults walk past you in business suits, walking back from work. Some of those hipsters hang by the small alleyways with their old skateboards. They give you so much as a glance. You tend to avoid those kinds of people, because usually they're lame and won't stop rapping. Kind of like Dave, only he's different. The trip to the store isn't eventful. Sometimes someone walking their dog stops so you can pet it. Dogs are adorable. The sun is just beginning to touch the horizon as you hit the general store, but it's still pretty hot. Well, for Oregon anyway.

As you approach, there's a bench besides the building. Out of everyone wearing bright, summer clothes, there's just one person sitting on the bench, dressed completely in black. They've got a black hoodie, which they're wearing over their head, black pants that covers every inch of their legs and waist, and black shoes. Probably even black socks too. The person is like a black splotch, and you can't help but notice. You try not to look directly, because that's always rude, but you notice the person is wearing black mittens, texting on a phone model you haven't seen before. They could just be a spoiled emo kid who thinks their life is terrible anyway. But as you walk past, the person immediately stops texting and puts their phone away. You could've sworn you could hear the person growl. It almost didn't sound human. Like an animal protecting something and it's convinced you're going to steal it. You snap your head back in front of you and walk past rather swiftly. But the person stands up behind you, and now you're convinced he, she, whoever they are wants to do something to you. You trot inside the store, making sure the slam the door behind you; which is kind of hard considering those giant glass doors aren't built to shut abruptly. When the door finally closes behind you, everyone inside gives you a look. Your eyes dart from person to person, and you realize no one's pushing on the door or trying to kill you. You turn around to find that the person has walked away in the opposite direction. You turn back to everyone, who had for the most part gone back to what they were doing. You take in a deep breath and recompose. You wonder where the mysterious being was heading off to, but like hell you were going to investigate. You had a bad vibe about them.

You walk past the cashier, who was a senior in high school. Someone you wish you didn't know so well. "What was that about?" he asks you.

You don't feel like attracting attention. "Nothing," you disappear into the aisles, not waiting for him to ask further. Images of the black figure still clouds your head as you make your way to the back of the store. You've never seen someone like that before. Were they new here? Maybe they were going to rob a bank or something. You bite your lip at that thought. And you let him get away. Though the person didn't seem to be armed in any way, but you don't know how small guns or knives can get. You'll have to ask Jade about that. You almost wish you brought your phone so you could talk to someone about it, or maybe something different entirely to get your mind off of it. People who pass you give you a glance that lasts only too long. You try to avoid eye contact. Way to go on embarrassing yourself. But as you head to the shaving scream aisle, you try to focus your entire self to grab the Barbasol and then abscond as quickly as possible. You're not really sure how many to pick out, so you just grab two and nearly run into someone trying to get to the cashier.

Coming up closer to the cashier, he wore a bright red shirt with regular jeans and a baseball cap that was also red and blue. Orangey-brown hair dangled on his freckled cheeks and ears, and his eyes click to you as you approach. On his shirt there is a small, metal name tag which states in black "Craig". He looks like he isn't done speaking to you about the previous manner.

"Well, what're you going in such a hurry? You late to dinner or something?" he asks as the takes the shaving cream, scanning it without a glance, his gaze too fixed on you.

"No, I just..." you try to come up with words for your awkward approach."Don't wanna talk about it. Well, at least not here," you lower your voice.

He raises a brow as he hands you back the Barbasol in a white, plastic bag. You take the money out of your pocket and hand it to him, not even asking for change. "No one's after you, are they? Don't tell me you went all rebellious the last day and pissed someone off."

You turn around and start to head off. "I'm fine now, really."

You hear something in Craig's pocket go off. "Hey wait!" he hastily makes his way out of the counter, "want me to ride you home or anything? It'll be dark by the time when you get back."

"I'm 15," you say, but he's already out of the door getting his keys out of his pocket. You roll your eyes. He's like the older brother you didn't want. And it's not like he's genuinely concerned, he just wants to know more about this "nothing" that got you so riled up. You follow him out of the shop and a block down. There's an old red hybrid parked haphazardly in a parking space. He whistles something you can't make out because it's so horribly out of tune. You hop in shotgun and he plops in. He jams in the key silently as the thing slowly comes to life. You casually look out the window. It's not like he hasn't ridden you home multiple times. Your dad trusts him for the most part, and really, you wouldn't be in this car if you hadn't signed up for that one class about something-or-other. He was just the kind of person who talked to everyone.

"Man, I hate this thing," he grumbled as you two slowly start to back out. "Can't wait to get a new one. It's gonna be my going-away gift."

"That's cool," you mumble.

"I'm kind of excited about the whole college thing. You get to have your own place, granted a roommate, and you get to wake up whenever you want."

"Sounds nice."

His head turns to you. "So you wanna skip the small talk, or-"

"Dude, I really don't feel like talking about it," you rub your nose, dislocating your glasses for a few seconds. "It really was nothing. I overreacted over something."

"That's not like you though," he's driving through the town now. "So something must be wrong."

You groan, deciding not to argue with him. They're always pointless anyway. "There was this weird guy dressed in black and I thought he was chasing me."

He makes an 'mmhm' as if genuinely interested. "What did he look like?"

"I dunno. I couldn't see his face or anything. Not even sure if that was a guy or not. He had this weird phone-looking thing, and he was real secretive about it I guess." You decide to face forward now, bored at looking out the window. "He was just sitting on this bench and when I passed he got up and I thought he was after me or something, so I just...kind of panicked I guess."

"I bet he's robbed some old lady or something," he seems to tell you this as if he's joking, but maybe he's not, and he's just being a douche about it. Which is very possible.

"Oh god, I hope not," you nearly shudder at the thought of some poor elderly woman robbed of her belongings. "You think I should have stopped him or something?"

"Hello no," he laughs. "Bro, I'd be scared too. But you'd think if he was gonna rob a bank or whatever, he wouldn't make it so obvious like 'hey, just gonna dress in black in the middle of summer. Contacts? Nahh, nobody needs to know who I am. I'm so friendly. Who could _possibly_ notice?'"

"Maybe they just liked black, I dunno," you really just want to get off the subject.

"I went through a phase like that once. I thought I was so cool, but wearing black eyeliner really loses taste after awhile, am I right?" He continues to chatter in your ear, which you're used to. You don't block him out completely, and you act like you're paying attention. He talks about college, and how he's going over to one where his girlfriend is. He talks about how he's going to miss this place, but at the same time he won't. He jabbers about the new job he'll get and what degrees he's going for, and who he'll be when he grows up. And, if Craig is lucky enough, maybe you'll see him on the T.V one day as a millionaire. "So," he says loudly enough to snap you out of your trance. "What're _you_ doing for your summer?"

"Well, the plan is to fly over so some little island across the world to meet up with Jade. My dad knew her grandpa or something from long ago, I forget. Then after I guess save up to fly over to Texas or New York, which ever I decide first." For a moment your mind brings up of Jade's puppy, who probably now is a dog, Bec. He was so cute when he was little, and also snow white. You wonder if she still has him.

"So you're more of a traveling guy, huh?" he seems all too happy about this conversation. Does he talk to other people? You hope so.

"More or less. More like I make friends with people who live really far away from me, which kind of sucks," you blow off. "But the good part is that I'll get away from here. I mean, I like it here, it's just that..." You look out the window again, and now you're in the neighborhood. "It's so routine-like and organized here. Nothing happens."

"Totally agree with you man," Craig chirps. "I'll miss this place, but not because of its spontaneous atmosphere, that's for damn sure." There's a silence. "Maybe that guy in black thinks it's boring here too. Decided to go all non-conformist and emo." He laughs at his own joke. You laugh too, because hey, that's why almost-friends were for, right? Not soon enough, he pulls up into your driveway. The sun had set on horizon, and the sky was now a deep orangey color. But other than Craig's cheap car, there's no other car. Your dad will be home at any minute. You mutter thanks for the ride and hop out, not forgetting your bag of shaving cream. But you stop and turn to look at Craig. He wasn't much, but you'd be lying saying you wouldn't miss him at all.

"Good luck in college!" you force your most optimistic voice.

"See you around," he smiles and you shut the door. You walk over to the front door and open up the door again as Craig backs out of your driveway, and drives off. His motor fades into the streets. You shut the door behind you.

Well.

You take the two cans of Barbasol out of the plastic bag and toss it in the trash can as you head to the bathroom. You open up a cabinet and put the two cans inside. Your dad has like, five more cans of this stuff. Why buy more? Oh well, it's an excuse to get out of the house. You re-enter the living room and set the keys on the small coffee table, just like they were a few hours ago. With that, you head upstairs and walk into your room. You turn on your computer and cell. No one bothered to message you. Awesome. You tuck the phone in your pocket, and dammit, you forgot your lemonade, so you head back down stairs to go grab it. In the living room, you head to your right into the kitchen where there's a large refrigerator and a few simple counters. You don't need a big kitchen to be an excellent baker, your dad always says. Or at least he said something like that. Also there is a back door that leads to the backyard, but that place is so empty, you don't even know why you have it. You open up the fridge and find that there's no lemonade, just lots of milk. Dammit. You close the fridge and open up a cabinet. You hate going up into the cabinet, lest you have to come face-to-box with the Batter Witch. The evil that rules your life. Betty Crocker. You know you're too old to be scared of a brand, but you've always been sure about this one. She's out there, you know, and she is definitely up to no good. You slowly open up the door and push the cake-mix boxes away swiftly, as if they were hot coals. In the very back, there's a one-serving pack of yellow-mix lemonade. You should have brought more at the store. Oh well. You grab it like it's the only piece of ice in that inferno of evil, and you slam the door shut. You grab a water bottle from the fridge, and with mild caution, poor the mix inside the bottle. You shake it up quite a bit, hearing nothing but the swish and swash of the water.

That is, until you hear a pained grunt from outside.

You freeze, your hand stopping, your muscles tensing, and you forget to blink. You wait for a minute, making sure it wasn't just your imagination, you eyes glued to the back door. You see black clothes in the grass without an owner.

Someone or something is in your backyard.

You feel like you should panic, but you know from all great sci-fi and action movies that panicking is the ilast/i thing you want to do. But still, you're totally confused on what to do. It's not like you have a spare baseball bat lying around like in all of those movies. You set your lemonade down, forgetting it completely, and open up a droor. Knives. Oh man, you can't stab anybody, that's beyond gruesome. But maybe if you get one that's big enough, it will drive off whatever is in your lawn. You decide to use a long cutting knife that looks really jagged. You hardly ever see your dad use knives except for cutting-cake knives. You have no idea how to defend yourself. Suddenly you remember your phones in your pocket. Maybe you'll live long enough to call 911. But whatever the case is, you know you have to be brave. You're practically taking care of your family. Of two. But you've grown up so much; your father would never stop saying how proud of you he is. With these positive thoughts, you silently scoot towards the door. You don't even want to look. Just get out there, give whatever is a good scare, and act like nothing happened. Amazing plan. What could go wrong? You nearly bust down the door and look both ways with the knife pointed directly in front of you. You look to your left. Nothing there. Just green grass. You look to your right, and your heart nearly shoots out of your chest and you take in a giant, wheezing, gasp.

There is a black hoodie, black shoes, black socks, and black mittens scattered around the lawn. In the right corner is...is...You're not sure what it is. It's some sort of humanoid, with pale, grey skin. It's sitting in the crease of the fence posts, its limbs splayed out as if it were dead. Its hands had yellow, thick nails on each finger. More like claws than anything else. Its feet also shared the same thing, though they looked much more like claws. The creature had messy black hair like you, and two orangey-yellow horns on its head. They were hardly there, but they were there. Its short-sleeved shirt was also black, and it had one giant logo on it, which looked like the Cancer sign in the Zodiac. You're not sure, but you really don't give a fuck right now. It still had on its black pants, and it wore some heavy-duty sunglasses. You hope this thing had eyes. As you let in your gasp, it catches in your throat as the thing snaps to life and looks at you. A snarl reaches its face, and sharp, pointed teeth glisten in the dying sunlight. It had greyish-pinkish looking gums. Its lip was twitching as if it was growling at you, but you can't hear it from there. And like you're getting any closer. But you have to, you suddenly realize. It's an alien, holy fuck it's an _alien_ and it's invading your backyard, and it's _growling_ at you and holy shit what do you even do now?

You don't panic, that's what. Which is extremely hard to do, but you manage. With small, careful steps, you turn around to face the monster, the knife still jutted in front of you. You forgot it was there. You can't decide whether to take giant, long a steps, or little, cautious ones. You kind of to a mixture of both as you approach it. As you get closer, its growling gets louder and louder, and you can nearly feel all the tense in its body. You know it's going to pounce, and you're terrified, so you stop. You're three steps away from the alien. You suddenly remember the knife you have, and you quickly drop it to your side. Bad move. The thing lets out a surprisingly human battle cry and it launches itself onto you. You topple over and you've got a growling animal ready to tear you to shreds with its claws and teeth. Its face his red in contrast with its grey skin and it's breathing is irregular. Your knife is too far to grab for, so you go with instincts and kick its stomach. It coughs in pain and nearly flies off you, hitting against the fence again, and off comes its shades. Its eyes open up for just a split second, and you can see that has eyes at least three times as big as yours. They're a glowing yellow, and the giant, black pupil shrinks so much you can hardly see it. It shuts its eyes and covers its vision with its arm, grunting in discomfort. You take a dive for the shades and shove them in one of your pockets. You have it now. It's frantically trying to block its vision from the sunlight, but it's not drastically blinding. More like annoying the shit out of it. You swore you heard it speak, '_give'emback_' but you can't make it out. It's slurred as if it was drunk or something. It's still panting; like that kick took everything out of it. It just kind of sits there, probably thinking what to do next.

You know you shouldn't go near that thing. You know it's going to attack you. You know it isn't friendly and you could use that knife to stab it, and the job would be done. But you're John Egbert, and you love aliens. You _have_ to get a look at it before you kill it with your shitty knife. You're now on your knees, and you crawl over to get your knife. You know standing up will probably freak it out more, so you slowly crawl over to the being. It can't see you, but it sure as fuck at hear you. It lashes out a hand blindly, probably to scratch your face, but you avoid it. You manage to take a weak grasp at its wrist, and you tighten as it tries to pull away. Its other arm leaves its eyes for a minute, and you can only see little slits of his eyes. Its expression looks confused with a mixture of panic and rage. It's also got another look in its eye, something you can't quite detect, but it sends a shiver up and down your spine as you label it unnatural. You do what they do in movies, and move the knife up to the creature's throat, which is also read from wearing itself out.

It squirms in yelps at first, and then takes another lash at you with its free arm. You bat it away and the knife is touching the alien's throat. You can't do this. Might as well be convincing.

You know it won't answer, and you know it's a stupid question, but you hiss "what the hell are you and why are you in my backyard?"

The thing answers with a bite to the face, which you barely avoid. Sharp teeth graze against your skin, and you hope you're not bleeding. But after that it doesn't seem to move, and it shuts its eyes, too annoyed to tolerate the sunlight. It's panting, and you can feel its breath against your face. It even relaxes and its head bonks against the fence post. It's beyond exhausted, and you finally realize it's probably suffering from some kind of heat stroke. You consider putting it out of its misery with the knife, but you don't know why that's so hard to do. It looks so much like you, just with grey skin with horns. And claws. And teeth. But still, it's resemblance to you is striking. It's nearly the same size as you, and, judging by human anatomy, it's about your age as well. Suddenly all these thoughts fill your head at once. Was it abandoned? Did it crash land here? Is there a bunch more like it on this planet and did it get separated? Slowly, you feel yourself put down the knife. It doesn't respond. It's unconscious. You either help it now or leave it to die. Alien or not, you know you're not that kind of person. You toss the knife away from you and begin to figure out how exactly you're going to pick this thing up. You figure piggy-back style will work best, you just can't drop it. You ease it onto your back, and hey, it's a lot lighter than you imagined. It's still heavy, but lighter than you are. Its arms lay uselessly by your sides, and you hold him from the back. Hopefully you can make it upstairs. You open up the door and prop it open with your leg as you hop inside, careful not to drop it. The door shuts behind you and you walk as swiftly as you can to your bedroom. Every once in a while you can feel it slipping, but you propping him against your back isn't as hard as it looked. You walk up the stairs slower than usual, because you've got dead weight on you, and you don't want to drop it because then it will fall down the stairs and no you're not going down that route.

When you finally get to the top, you thank your stars you left your room open, and you walk inside. The lights are on in your room, but you decide to turn them off. With the sun fully set and dark coming to play, it's almost too dark to see. You rest the alien easily on the bed. If you didn't know any better, you would say it was dead. You even lay your head against its chest to make sure. It feels fine, but it desperately needs to be hydrated or cooled off or something. You pray to everything that might exist he doesn't wake up by the time you come back up the stairs. It's unlikely, but you never know. You jot down the stairs again to half-jog back into the backyard to grab the clothing and the knife. You put the knife back in the kitchen where it belongs. You hope you don't have to use that again. You have the clothes in one hand and you open the fridge with the other. Does it even drink water? You hope so. Your grab another water bottle and take your own lemonade. You skip two steps at a time to check on your foreign visitor. Still unconscious.

You just sort of dump the clothes in the corner. No to be rude or anything, but for all you know, these probably weren't even its clothes. You realize with an inward cringe you sort of left it sprawled out on the bed, which probably is why it looks dead. You align its limbs together, and prop up its head against the bed frame. You open up the water bottle and open the creature's jaw carefully. You note that its tongue is grey like its skin, as well as the rest of its mouth. You dribble some water into its mouth, making sure not to let it choke. You're not exactly sure how they do it in movies, but you rub his throat gently so he swallows. Jesus its throat is hot, but at the same time its skin is surprisingly smooth. Like, soft smooth. It seems to be drinking, and you wish you could make it...less heated. Oh wait, yes you can. Not 100% willing, you slowly remove the thing's shirt, bracing yourself for whatever weird alien organs that might be jutting out. But it's just a chest, nipple-less you can't help but add. You're just going to safely say this is probably a guy you're taking care of. You set the water down and once again, trot down the stairs to get a rag.

You hear the door knob jiggle.

Oh. No.

Your dad opens the door, and he greets you usual. He asks if you got the shaving cream for him, and as always, you answer with a yes."What are you after, there?" he asks with a nosey tone as you head back again to the kitchen. You have three seconds to come up with a valid answer.

"I uh, spilled something in my room, and I need a towel to clean it up," you say just a little too quickly as you grab for any random rag in the cabinet. "I'll be more careful next time, it was just water."

"Good boy," he chirps happily. "Well, if you need me, you know I'll be in my study-"

"Actually, you know what?" you ask, not really meaning to. "I think I'm just gonna sit tight in my room for the rest of the night. Don't bother with dinner or anything, I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?" he walks over to you, now officially on concerned-father-mode. You really should have known better. "Did something go wrong at school?"

"No," you half-groan. "School was great. Glad it's finally over; I guess I'm a little overwhelmed?" Well, it wasn't a complete lie. You were overwhelmed. Actually overwhelmed doesn't really describe it, but you're too "overwhelmed" to find another word.

"Probably," he sighs. "You're growing up, son. I'm so proud of you."

You manage to not roll your eyes. "I know you are. Anyway, um, stain. Yeah. See you tomorrow," you blurt out the last phrase as you make your way up the stairs. You go into your room and close the door. You'd give anything for a lock right now, but at least your dad has the common decency to knock.

Ok, so.

What now?

You take the water bottle and wet the rag with it. You press it on various parts of the alien's body, hoping that cools him down. You're nursing another creature from another planet back to health. You're not a scientist; you're not even an adult. How did this even happen? You have no idea how to take care of him; you don't know what he'll do when he wakes up. He'll probably kill you; maybe even eat you or something really gross and disturbing like that. But you can't _not_ take care of him. It's a weird feeling, one you really can't tell what it is. Whatever it is, it will be the death of you.

Your phone vibrates and you jump a little, forgetting you had it. You take it out of your pocket and it's Jade.

Oh wow, what do you even say?

- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 19:10 -

GG: hey john!

GG: john?

GG: i know you are on, john. do NOT tell me you aren't super stoked for this summer because i know i am! :D

EB: woah ok, i'm on.

EB: and of course i'm excited! i'll finally get to see you again!

GG: hehehe (:

GG: i remember what you look like!

GG: only i am guessing you grew back your teeth.

EB: yeah, and now they're super giant and dorky. :B

GG: omg so are mine!

GG: i've still got my glasses and everything!

GG: i would send you a picture if it didn't take so dang long for the connection to start up.

EB: haha, well that's what you get for living in a weird little island.

GG: hey!

GG: you are the one going to my "weird little island" and it is so amazing you will be jealous for ages!

EB: is it crawling with those weird aliens you're always talking about?

GG: ...

GG: ok so i stretched the truth a LITTLE.

EB: no, you lied. big liar.

GG: some would call it a prank, john. ;)

EB:...touché.

EB: but seriously what are you up to?

GG: the usual... :p

GG: i'm stuck in my room cause i got grounded. AGAIN.

EB: jeez, you sure get grounded a lot! are you like, going through some weird rebellious teenager phase?

GG: ugh no, it's my dog. he keeps wanting me locked up all safe and sound.

GG: sometimes it's really annoying!

EB: he sure is protective of you.

EB: is your grandpa that bad?

GG: sometimes...

GG: but i don't know what it is with bec! it's like he doesn't want me to get hurt, but i've lived on the damn island all my life!

EB: i think that's just parents.

EB: they accept the fact that you're growing up until about 10,

EB: then they want you to keep acting like a 10 year old but also to be mature at the same time.

GG: yeah, i never really got that. :p

EB: or it could be there really IS an alien that bec doesn't want you to see.

GG: you're so right! o:

EB: i was kidding.

GG: oh...

GG: i guess i would know if there were aliens on my island or something...

GG: so what are you up to?

EB: nothing.

You know from the start that's the worst lie you could ever come up with. But what were you supposed to say? You're switching from texting Jade and cooling off your foreign guest's body with your rag. Occasionally you let him drink, and apparently, he's half-conscious because you note with a start that he's beginning to swallow by himself.

GG: oh? so why did it take you so long to reply?

EB: because you're impatient and i was reading.

GG: the only thing you "read" are comics, john.

GG: what are you hiding from me, you little sneak? i won't tell anyone. :D

EB: i swear it's nothing.

EB: nothing at all.

EB: i guess i was just spacing off or something.

GG: so...you weren't reading?

Oh shit, you're losing this battle. Badly. But you just can't tell her "hey Jade, I've got this cool grey-skinned, yellow horned alien in my room and he tried to kill me. No biggie though." You're not even sure if she's as much as a geek of aliens as you are, and the chances of her even believing you is about as thin as one of your hairs. Wow, terrible analogy, but still.

EB: ok, no...

EB: just thinking about things.

EB: a lot of things.

GG: is anything wrong? :(

EB: ...no. not really, i guess. when you think about it.

EB: just a lot happening at once, and i'm leaving it at that!

GG: well now you have my interest!

GG: spit it out!

EB: nope.

GG: did you get a girlfriend or something?

EB: what, no.

GG: dang, i could've sworn!

GG: but come on john! you can tell me anything. (:

EB: well...

EB: you wouldn't believe me.

EB: and even if you did, you absolutely positively, under no circumstances, ever tell anyone!

GG: wow, now i feel all committed and stuff!

GG: this better be good. it would be kind of anti-climatic if it was just some dumb gossip.

GG: it isn't dumb gossip, right?

EB: no...

You're about to tell one of your best friends there's an alien in your house. What could go wrong?

EB: ok, here i go.

EB: i was walking down the street to get some groceries for my dad and there was this dude all dressed in black. like, you couldn't see their face or anything. it was really creepy. so then i forgot about him and had craig drive me home, and then i went down to get some lemonade and...

GG: yes?

GG: your point?

EB: there's this alien in my house and he's having some weird heat stroke and i don't know what to do and he tried to kill me and i don't really know how to take care of him but i am and my dad has no clue and you're really the only one i've ever told!

GG: ...

GG: pardon?

EB: the guy dressed in black was this alien, see and...

EB: he was in my backyard, and i tried to kill him, but he got really weak because he was overheated i guess? so i took him in my room and i'm nursing him back to consciousness.

EB: ...

EB: you don't believe me, do you?

GG: are...

GG: you...

GG: KIDDING?

GG: of COURSE i believe you!

GG: oh wow, he's in your house?

GG: so does he look like a person?

EB: yeah.

EB: actually, a lot like a person!

EB: the only real difference is that he's got these big yellow eyes, and these yellowish-oragnish horns. He also has grey skin and sharp teeth with yellow claws.

EB: i think someone got a cat and a human, mixed them up, and got this guy.

EB: ...at least, i THINK it's a guy.

GG: he sounds so cute! 3

GG: oh my gosh, i wish i could see him!

GG: you sure you can't send a picture or something?

EB: i really don't wanna do that...

EB: what if your dog or your granpa sees it while you're not looking?

GG: oh yeah...

GG: darn. :(

EB: and promise me you will NOT tell ANYONE!

GG: well...

EB: i'm serious, jade.

GG: i'm just messing with you! :p

GG: of course i'll keep it a secret.

GG: BUT...

EB: but? do we really need buts in this conversation?

GG: ...wow.

EB: yeah ok that was really lame.

GG: anyway, i want status updates on the little guy whenever you have the time. (:

GG: and i swear i'll delete this log when i sign off!

GG: which should be now, actually. you have a creature from another world to take care of!

GG: good luck!

EB: oh wow, i do.

EB: and i'm gonna need more luck than good luck.

EB: anyway, thanks for believing me, i guess.

GG: no problem!

GG: bye! 3

EB: yeah, bye.

- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 19:53 -

You know you can trust Jade with practically anything. This really shouldn't be a problem. You know she isn't going to tell anyone. But you regret telling her you have an alien in your bedroom. You know eventually someone is going to know, and if anybody, let it be Jade. You guess it's just the part of you really not wanting to do this. Not wanting to be in this situation.

What are you talking about? You are the foreign fanatic, the different doofus. And now, you're a...a...a science sleuth! You should be freaking out at how amazing your find is, how cool this alien is looking. How you're going to magically keep it in your room until...

Until...

Your thoughts are snapped in half when yellow light catches your eyes. Well, it's not really a light, but a dull glow from two eyes opening. The alien's eyelids shake with effort, but the slowly flutter open, with the pupils rolled back in his head. He makes a sort of half-human half-not-from-this-planet sound groan, and his limbs shift slightly, as if to get more comfortable. His pupils roll to the front of his vision, and they are much bigger than they were before, probably taking up half of the area of his eyes. His clawed hands grasp the bed sheets, and his toes do the same for a split second, and he relaxes. He's staring at the ceiling and slowly, an arm reaches to his head so his fingers gingerly rub his temples. He probably has an awful headache, you decide even though you're half-terrified. You take the rag off his body like it would somehow hurt him and you gaze at his facial expression.

Suddenly, his eyes flick unto yours. He's staring at you. And you're staring back.


End file.
